


Painted Shadows

by ASCII42



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But actually this is kinda dark in some places, Families of Choice, Jedi hypocrisy, Loyalty, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Presentation, Sith AU, Sith being Sith, Skywalker's being dramatic, The force shall free me, Whats the difference between a villain and a super villian, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 10:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10462848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASCII42/pseuds/ASCII42
Summary: "They paint the world full of shadows and then they tell their children to stay close to the light. Their Light, their reasons, their judgments. Because in the darkness there be dragons. But it isn’t true. We can prove that it isn’t true. In the dark, there is discovery, there is possibility. There is freedom in the dark, once someone has illuminated it." - Black SailsTo be clear this is not a cross over.(previously titled Peace Is a Lie...)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So for the Sith spoken in this and for the chapter titles, you can use [this](https://lingojam.com/Sith) translator if you want them in basic. 
> 
> So tbh i have no idea what the original outline for this fic was....I looked on every flash drive i own and can't find it. But I dug this out of my works in progress and I really like it. So I now have awesome ideas of what to do with it that...may or may not be the same ideas as before. 
> 
> I have to say this story is what you might get if you took all the characters and world building pieces from Star Wars, through them across the room like a deck of cards and picked them up in a random order.....Okay, it's not that bad everything has a purpose....Just be warned things and people are in weird places and times.

Kenobi watched as the life drained out of his master's eyes. Red saber piercing through his chest for just seconds. But he didn't have time to grieve or mourn or stand in shock. Life made no concessions for the dead. Maul lunged. He raised his saber on instinct. Focus and sense failing to return. Blades clashed. The red with intent to kill and the blue randomly. Sloppy with grief and fear. A Sith lord drunk on power and a Jedi reduced to feral instinct. Somewhere within himself, he sees this. He sees himself scramble backward with tears falling. He sees the way his eyes keep looking to his master dead on the floor. He sees the way he's not looking at creature coming at him. What he doesn't see is the blade. Not until it goes through his side.

As a Jedi, he'd had his fair share of burns and broken bones. Traning sabers tweaked up by unruly initiates. Twisted joints from force accidents. The natural result of children that can move things with their minds. But this isn't like that. This is like being burned from the inside out. He hears himself scream and it doesn't stop. There's no blood. The smell of searing flesh hits his nose. The small part of his mind that is still rational sends a warning. But it's too distant and too late.

He wakes all at once but its a full minute before his brain processes anything. When he does come to he's curled in on himself and backed up against the wall. Panic and the harsh burn in his side threatening to pull him back under. Slowly he sees the room around him. Steel walls and harsh lights coming into focus. Darth Maul. His torso splayed a few feet away from his legs. And beside it's corpse, the body of his Master. He tries to move his legs and can't feel them. The motion makes pain sear in his side. But he can't feel a damned thing other than that. _Why can't I feel my legs_. He panics again until he reaches for his face and feels the cold. on his hands. The kind that makes sure he'll never be warm again. With this comes the realization that he can feel his legs. But only just. They feel crumbly and uncontrolled. The force feels off. Distant and almost diseased and....cold. The near lack of his constant ally cutting him off and dulling everything.

But he's a Jedi so he starts to struggle to his feet. Head spinning and trying to pull him back down. The whole time his eyes never leave the body of his Master. The tears don't fall. He feels physically sick at the creature lying in two. But imagines what compassion might feel like and his brain convinces him its the same as actually feeling it.

By the time support arrives he's standing in the main hanger carrying his Master's body, face carefully blank. There both loaded onto stretchers. The Doctors and the Naboo Security Force take turns bombarding him with questions. _"Did you suffer any injuries." "What injuries did the Sith suffer before he was killed." "Where were you when the fight occurred." "How long did the flght last." "Where was your master killed" "Where was the Sith killed." "Did he at any time appear to be attempting to take hostages._ " His eyes focus on the gray wall of the mostly empty hanger and stay there. Never meeting to their gaze. He doesn't tell them that he blacked out. That he doesn't remember half the fight or killing the Sith. But he did kill him. He can feel it his bones. No mysterious stranger came sliced a Sith in half with a saber then left. There was no one who could have. He should maybe be telling them this. But it doesn't really make any difference beyond himself. And so he listens to the little voice in his head that is afraid and ashamed and just wants to forget and keeps his mouth shut. He's too tired to explain.

The ride back the palace is spent in silence. First, the medics take him, strip him down to a paper gown run him through scanners and stick him wth needles. Despite his instances he's not hurt. Every time he moves the drip shoves further into his arm. He spends hours like that. Looses track. Laying in a bed in medical and just feeling cold. Then he asks for a book and pretends to read. He doesn't even try to sleep. Meditation hurts too much. The raw broken training bond physically painful in his head. They're not Jedi so everyone keeps telling him how sorry for his loss they are. On such a small ship there's no really nowhere to hide from them.

He's given a guest room in the palace where he lays down but doesn't sleep. Instead, his mind blankly catalogs the white curtains and blankets, white lamps hang from the ceiling seemingly to elaborate for a bedroom. But such is Naboo. To him, it just feels odd. To see the rest of the world so blatantly unchanged. Even though that's ridiculous.

After a few minutes, he gives up and starts on his report to the council instead. That makes him pause. He doesn't even know if he even can lie to the Jedi council. He's never tried before. And besides the creeping dread that comes up every time the thinks about telling someone he blacked out, he definitely doesn't think he should. But....He can't tell the NSF and the Council two different things. He's already tied his own hands.

At some point he passes out from sheer exhaustion. Because he wakes up to someone knocking on his door. Pad on his face with the report still open and lights still on. He collects himself as best he can and opens the door to one of the palace staff. Who hands him a note and nods politely before skipping off to her next task. It's a ticket back to Coruscant along with an order to be debriefed in person by the council. Under the circumstances, he should probably try to feel honored.

* * *

"This council motions to forgo the trials of Knighthood. As padawan Kenobi has already been tested. More so than we could ever hope to do. And he has passed that test with flying colors." Mace Windu sat along with the rest of the Jedi council. Light streaming in the open windows high above the rest of Coruscant. Making the typical modest light walls of the temple seem even brighter. In front of them stood a perfectly composed padawan. 

"Thank you, Masters. I am honored." His heart was pounding. He gave his report. Somehow the omission of that one small detail feels like treason. But they're standing here offering to Knight him. They must not have noticed. Somehow that feels even worse. 

"Are there any who object." There was a beat of silence in which the council unanimously agreed in the force.

"Time to reflect, you have had?" 

He's too far down the whole. He already jumped. No climbing out now. "I have Masters." Even as the words leave his mouth it feels like rot. His master is dead, he blacked out. and they're Knighting him for it. 

"See no reason to delay I do. Be knighted you shall." Yoda stepped forward and Kenobi kneeled. Dropping onto one knee. With a flick of his wrist, Yoda detached the padawan braid.

Kenobi stood and bowed.

The ritual was like everything Jedi. Minimalistic, lacking in any vanity and fanfare. He didn't know what he should feel but instead, he just felt empty. Not even sad or remorseful, just...nothing. A blank slate for the appropriate reactions to be painted onto the surface. How very Jedi. 

He'd requested some time to get his affairs in order. But half way back to his floor he realized he couldn't go back to his quarters. The temple hadn't gotten around to assigning him new ones yet. So he took a random corner and started walking. Trying not to look lost. Racking his mind for somewhere to go. Eventually, he made his way to medical to make an appointment with the mind healers. Only to discover that Yoda had already done if for him.

His next instinct was to go to the library but he didn't think he could bring himself to read. He felt restless. Like if he stopped moving he was going to collapse. He hadn't slept at all on the flight from Naboo to Coruscant. Hadn't even tried to. That made this his third day running without sleep. Mind hazy and half frantic with exhaustion he just wandered. Occasionally giving polite nods to strangers in an attempt to act normal. Wondering if the looks he got were real or just in his head.

He didn't know how much time had passed but eventually, Bant found him. Curled up in a ball in a nearly hidden spot in the room of a thousand fountains.

"Hey, I heard what happened. Congratulations Knight Kenobi." the Mon Calamari gave him a kind smile.  She was always one to dwell on the good parts.

He just stared back. Mind not providing what should be basic responses.

"Did they give you new room assignments yet?"

He shook his head and felt her scan him with the force. Weakly he tried to put ups better shields and make his force signature read as normal. But it ended up as more of a vague wall of spikes.

"It's not a problem if you want to rest in my quarters."

She hooked an arm under him and hauled him to his feet. Not bothering to wait for an answer. He was in no shape to protest and really wouldn't have anyway.

Bant's quarters were filled with plants. That along with the humid air gave it the appearance that someone had tried to mimic a rainforest in the Jedi dormitories. But Obi-wan had never found it unpleasant. It was actually -- usually very relaxing.

"Okay." She said, walking him to the bathroom hand handing him a towel. "First you shower. Then you rest."

Obi-Wan nodded mechanically and realized he hadn't showered since the day before he arrived on Naboo. 

The Mon Calimari where and aquatic species so Bant's quarters were equipped with a shower that used water instead of sonic. 

He collapsed onto the smooth floor of the shower. Legs no longer able to hold him up. The urge to curl in on himself returned and he found his hands shaking.

Then he spaced out. Mind wandering to nowhere. Eye's not blinking and seeing nothing. Time passed, but he didn't know how much. 

There was a knock on the door that slowly brought him to reality. "Obi-wan are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine." He managed weakly. Words slurring a little. "Just finishing up.

Limbs feeling like spaghetti he shut the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist. A pair of fresh robes was waiting for him. Folded nearly outside the door. He put them on and walked back out into the living area.

"Good." You look better. Bant said, putting a hand on his shoulder and walking him into the next room. Steering him towards the bed. He started to protest but Bant just used a nudge of the force to pull the covers back and get him to lie down under them. A quick tap to his head filled with the lightest suggestion and he dropped off into sleep.

* * *

"It's very likely that the Sith will declare war." Master Windu was as outspoke and blunt as ever. But he garnered to much respect for anyone to take notice.

"Right you may be. Very important to Sidious Maul was."

Several of the Masters around the room looked shocked. Like the looming threat of war was something they never actually thought would come to bare. And were being confronted with the reality of the ledge they'd always been standing on. Now, suddenly, they could see the edge.

Master Plo Koon looked unfazed. "If Sidious goes to war it's unlikely any of the other Sith families would follow him. On his own Sidious does not have the resources to defeat the Jedi order. It would be a futile move. "

"Such is the way of the Sith." Said Windu.

"Not this Sith. Sidious is patient. He deals in manipulation, not in grand gestures and posturing. He will seek vengeance, but not with a war he cannot win."

"Perhaps we should force him to declare war."

Half the council, to their credit, looked at Windu like he had been abruptly replaced with a bantha.

Yoda was the first to recover. "Keepers of peace, the Jedi are. Force a war, we shall not."

"Just hear me out. We have to think long term. And long term less Sith is better for everyone. With the death of Darth Maul conditions are primed."

"Master Windu forgive me but the Jedi are not judge jury and executioner to the galaxy. Our duty is to defend peace. We defend ourself's if necessary. It is not to us to decide who rules."

"Dealing a blow to the Sith is defense...." He cut off as the ding that meant incoming call filled the room. The projector flashed an unknown number. Someone accepted the call in and the blackened profile of a Sith filled the room. The tones on the projector were turned down. Blurring and darkening the lines of the already black armor. Face completely obscured behind a hood and a mask. The front of it coming up like a muzzle and disappearing into a void where its eyes should be. The rest of the armor a mix of interlocking metal plates and bullet resistant leathers.

The thing gave off no force signature. Not the small one of a non-force sensitive. But the void in the force of one who had been trained to seem so. "Jedi. I understand you're in somewhat of a dilemma." The voice was heavily modulated.

"A dilemma there is not. No actions against the Sith the Jedi will take. Move against us Sidious cannot."

The voice laughed. A low chuckle that was barely audible over the comms. "Sidious never shows his full hand. He'll move against you. We have methods of war that the Jedi lack."

"Darth." Said Master Koon "At least I assume that is your title. As it stands we have nothing but your word for this. It will take much more than that."

"I've already sent proof. It should be everything you need to know." With that, the transmission shut off.

The council sat in silence. Deciding to sink into meditation.

It was not two minutes later the chime sounded on the door.

Yoda opened in with a flick of his wrist.

An out of breath padawan rushed in. The young Twi'lek struggling to look composed. "Masters, someone left this on the steps of the temple."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a data card. The dark side rolling off it in a steady stream. Attached to it with string was a piece of expensive paper. And on it a message written in blood. _"From your new ally."_

Windu grabbed the chip with the force. Floating it the secure port on the far wall. He dismissed the padawan with a nod of his head.

The lights in the council chamber dimmed. A holo screen projected up onto the curve of the wall.

 _We send you this message in the hopes that the Jedi can look to the greater needs of the galaxy. We are Sith. We do not pretend to share the same goals. However, we do share a common enemy._ The voice was modulated the same as the one before _. Darth Sidious's forces reach far further than you know. Likely farther than my network can reach._

Walls and walls of cages lined the room. Each of them no taller than a chair in the council chamber. In each sat 3 or 4 beings crammed in side by side without enough space to stand or move.

_My operatives have uncovered experiments Sidious is conducting. Genetic modifications, mechanical implants, psychological conditioning. Others are abominations created by horrid abuse of the force._

The scene shifted again to a table with a deformed body. Its limbs protruding from the wrong places wounds torn open. Hands flecked with its own blood as if it had tried to claw its way out of its body.

_Sidious is attempting to create an army. Super soldiers custom made and conditioned to be unquestionably obedient. These are beings created without a will of their own. for the sole purpose of carrying out that of the Sith. This is not the reason for our rivalry. But in and of its self is a violation of that which makes us Sith._

The brutal images continued to flicker by, 

_If I understand the Jedi your code will not allow you to stand by the abuse of the force and the blatant torture of thousands. Nore the consequences if this army were to come to bare._

_We can offer you intelligence, resource, weapons, and tactics. As has been so often noted my your scholars. The best killers of the Sith, are other Sith. In exchange, we ask only that you be the public face of the opposition against Sidious and the Palpatine family._

_We require your answer in the next 48 hours. After that, regardless of your decision, this information will be dropped to the public._

The lights in the room slowly came back on. No one so much as breathed out of line, the force ringing with shared tension. It was not often the Jedi council was stunned into silence.

Finally, Kit Fisto said "We have no way of verifying this information. I think it would be rash to act on what we cannot confirm."

"Hmm. Meditate on this we must. See what the force has to say we will."

* * *

Nute Gunray was the Viceroy of the Trad Federation. The Nemodiaon was fabulously wealthy and made absolutely sure that everyone knew it. Wearing only the finest clothes and staying at only the most prestigious places. As such on any given day he could often be found lounging around the 500 Republica. He was also very concerned with his personal safety. Rarely leaving except on official business. At any given time he surrounded himself with the best security money could buy. Giving no thought to either his own privacy or anyone else's comfort in favor protection against the enemies he had made.

The 500 Republica had had a power outage. Actually, a fair section of the most wealthy district on Coruscant had had a power outage. It would undoubtedly be a major embarrassment to Coruscant for about a month before everyone forgot about it.

Gunray's mind was spinning. He had worked through every possibility. Every way, what most people would see in their ignorance as a minor inconvenience, could result in a breach of his security. A tear in his personal safety.

He sat in the oversized chair, not even attempting the read the pad in his hand. The room had always seemed far too small in his opinion. So that there was only about fifty feet between his place by the holo-screen and the door where his two guards stood. Now that distance seemed far too large for comfort. It was nearly dark. Space lit only by the emergency lights his guards carried. They were placed haphazardly around. Far too few of them for the large space.

Nervously he reached for his ear to demand another check, the third one in five minutes, and found silence. Even as he yelled for the guards at his door to radio check in his mind was backpedaling, a symphony of denial.

The room lit up red. An x burned into the door seconds before in was blown in. Shrapnel lodged itself in his chair. The guards dead on the floor. Burnt flesh filling the air.

The thing stepped through the hole where the door had been. It had no race, no gender, no face beyond the black muzzle that covered it. It walked almost unhurried, red light flickering off the walls then fading.

"Viceroy. You have some contracts that are of great interest to us."

He shook his head "I....I don't...." A vice locked around his necked and he instinctively tried to pry it off. His hands leaving red scratches down his throat, clawing at nothing. He felt his lungs convulse. Pain lighting up in his chest as his body spasmed. Vision starting to swim. Skull buzzing.  Every thought went out of his head except the need to breathe. 

"The codes to you databanks."

Then it was over and he was dropped to the floor. His legs crumpled leaving him in a heap struggling for breath. A bit of sense seeped through his panic, enough to speak. "My clients will kill me." He trembled. "I'll be a dead man walking."

The grip closed around his throat again. This time it didn't let up until gray edged into his vision. Pain almost fading in favor of blackness. Tears streamed down his face. quickly turning from a reflective response into racking sobs.

The grip on his throat was gone but a sort of pleasant buzzing entered his mind.

"The codes, Viceroy."

He watched helplessly as the key's to his lively hood were drained away into a data chip. Then his mind was taken again and wiped, he would remember none of this. Not in the way that it had happened.

* * *

Raxus was a planet long renowned for its beauty. Both natural and built. And of the beauty that had been built there, the palace in Raxulon, its capital city, was the crowning jewel. Spires from various sections reached up into the sky. The pattern forming the points of a hexagonal grid from the air. The architecture was flowing and open. There wasn't a room in the building not affected with vast windows that looked out over the sweeping compound. This, of course, made it impossible to have it all in one building and ornate bridges connected the sections.

Surrounding it was research and development for new starfighters and drones. Podracing test tracks. Weapons research and production. Workers were housed within the compound. All of it a vast mini-city protected by towering walls, those where mostly for show, and an energy shield, that was not. And written on the side of those walls in massive letters, _Skywalker Industries._

Padme Amidala brought her starfighter into the bay at what was, really, an unnecessary speed. Her helmet retracted and she pulled back the hood, revealing a youthful face and dark hair pulled tightly to her head out of practicality.

Engines powered down she left the fighter to the techs in the bay and headed to the war room, eager to sift through what she had found.

It was perhaps the only room in the palace not adorned with windows and light. And this was only because everything to happen here was highly classified. The fifty-foot space was little more than a six-sided room filled with computers display read outs and projects. None of the databanks were networked and the walls where 2 feet of reinforced durasteel. The rest of the heavily armed and defended palace could come crashing down and this room would still be immaculate.

Sabe was already there. Pouring over a map of Sidious's territories. "Master, did you get what you wanted?"

"Of course, I always enjoy torturing Gunrey." She plugged the data chip into a secure port and watched as it downloaded. "Do you know if Vader is in?"

"I'm not sure. Last I saw him he was with the Podracers."

Padme grinned and tapped out a comm. _I'm home. Gunrey is still an idiot. Call when you're free._

She sighed and leaned forward onto the desk. The Trade Federation was massive, Sidious was smart. He would hide his activities under a dozen different names. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title loosely translates to that of an album by Five Finger Death Punch. I figure the Sith pretty much embody heavy metal.


End file.
